


Stepping Up

by vanillafluffy



Category: Political Animals
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Heart Attacks, Medical Procedures, Parental illness, TJ Hammond is a Rock Star
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-28 20:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7655692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his father has a health crisis, TJ has to stay focused and take care of business. It's a daunting responsibility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stepping Up

There's a mob wielding cameras between the car at the curb and the front door of the hospital. The Secret Service has formed a protective cordon between him and the reporters, and TJ doesn't even glance their way, just keeps moving forward, aiming for the entrance, for answers. 

In a hushed corridor, he finds a familiar face. Anne gets up from her seat at the sight of him and throws her arms around him. "Of all the times for Doug and your mom to be out of the country," she sighs. 

Jesus. That's right--Mom and Dougie are in China. That means _he's_ officially the face of the Hammond family for this crisis. This is way out of his comfort zone. He tries to think of what the responsibility entails. 

"Do they know yet?" he asks Wright, who's been on his dad's detail since his second term. 

"Yes, sir, they've been informed. Your brother has made a brief statement expressing concern, but due to the sensitive nature of the negotiations, their trip will continue as scheduled."

"My grandmother?"

"Visiting friends on Hilton Head; we haven't made contact yet because she's currently on someone's yacht and her detail is out of radio range. We have a helicopter standing by; we can have her here in just over an hour."

"I doubt she'd come in for this, but keep trying." TJ asks a question he's almost sure he doesn't want to know the answer to. "What have the doctors said?"

"Definitely a heart attack. They're running tests, but it looks like he's going to need surgery."

Running tests. If it was really bad, wouldn't they have hauled him into surgery ASAP? That's good, right?

"Where did it happen?" That's a loaded question--because with his dad's history of skirt-chasing, he half-expects to hear "in bed"--with someone inappropriate. And wouldn't that make the reporters shit themselves with glee?

"He had just finished lunch at Plume, and stopped to talk to someone on the way out when he collapsed."

He's ashamed of himself for feeling relief, as if Bud Hammond had somehow managed to stage this for his own PR benefit. His dad is fighting for his life, and here he is, worrying about how it's going to look. When had image started to matter to him? During the campaign? The trial? But he's still glad that his dad's reputation isn't going to be tarnished any more than it already is. 

"There's film, sir." says one of the younger detail agents. "Cell phone video from the restaurant went live twenty-eight minutes ago, approximately four minutes after the incident."

Of course there's video. He just hopes it won't become as historic as the Kennedy assassination..."Bud Hammond's Last Meal"...his stomach does a barrel roll and he feels queasy. Then there's a man in scrubs addressing him, and he does his best to pay attention to the patter of jargon: blockages, beta-blockers, arteriograms, stents...

"What are his chances?" TJ asks, trying to keep his tone level, when what he really wants is to plead, 'Don't let my daddy die!'. 

"We'll know more after the surgery, but he's strong. We've got him stabilized and his vitals are good. I can't make any promises, but unless something unexpected comes up, I'd say the odds are in his favor."

Then they wait. There's a call from the Veep...Metzenbaum says all the right things, and TJ is pretty sure he's made the right responses, but he's glad when the call ends. The White House Press Secretary wants a statement from him. Of course this comes as a shock, but he is trusting in God and the doctors to pull his father through, and he hopes the American people will also...yadda-yadda-yadda....

He calls the store, and arranges for Amy to close and make the deposit. She's sympathetic, but brisk--there are customers. He updates Crispin, who's been on campus all day and hadn't heard the news. He has an evening class, he wishes he could be there... 

TJ answers quietly, wanting him there, too. Yes, he's stressed, but he'll get through it. No, he can stay sober. That's not an issue. (The thought hadn't crossed his mind, but now that it has, he isn't even tempted.) He'll leave a message if there's any news. 

Anne is dozing in her chair. TJ wishes he had a piano to pour his nervous energy into. Memories of his dad...good and bad...it's ironic, after the number of times Dad broke Mom's heart, that here he is, with his heart, broken. Literally. What's that quote, something about loving not wisely, but too well? For all his flaws, Bud Hammond wasn't a bad father. His dad's always loved him, that much he knows. Both of his parents do...he lucked out, he really did. 

TJ thinks of all the times he screwed up, flunking out of one school after another, trips to rehab, OD'ing...it's just in the last couple years since he's cleaned up his act that his dad's been really proud of him. He doesn't want to lose that...he wants to atone for all the stupid, selfish stunts he pulled and achieve things that will earn his dad's admiration. Because not screwing up? Isn't enough anymore. Lots of people don't. But if Dad isn't here to witness it, he's afraid whatever he accomplishes won't be good enough. He can't imagine--

There's a sudden commotion. Thinking it's the doctor, TJ springs to his feet. 

To his amazement, it's his grandmother. She's not a fan of her ex-son-in-law, which makes her appearance all the more surprising. 

"Nana." He gives her a long hug. She smells of gin and limes and the sweet floral perfume she favors. 

"Never mind him, how are _you_?" she asks when he tries to tell her what's going on. 

"He's been amazing, Margaret--you should have heard him." Anne says, opening her eyes. "He briefed the Vice President like he did it every day!"

Not quite, but that's the kind of thing he's been exposed to for most of his life. He knows how to summarize, whether it's a sales meeting at the store or medicalese. And it's hard to be intimidated by the Veep when both of his parents have held the Oval Office. It's surreal, discovering his own competence in the middle of this crisis. Stressful as it is, he isn't falling apart. Who _is_ this person?

Some of the detail brings in food, and he realizes how long ago breakfast was. If there's anything else he wants, they say, just ask. He fights down the urge to ask for a baby grand--hell, even a cheap electronic keyboard!--but common sense tells him that while he might find it therapeutic, the staff and patients probably wouldn't. He tries to think of anything else that needs to be taken care of, any other calls he should make...what absolutely vital thing has he not done?

When the doctor reappears, TJ rises to his feet. The other man looks weary, but relaxed. "He came through the procedure very well," the surgeon tells them "One of you may see him for five minutes."

Obviously, that's him. He follows through more hallways, detail in step with him. 

His father has never looked so pale, but he manages a smile for TJ. "Goddamn, son," Bud croaks. "You look worse than I feel."

It's on the tip of TJ's tongue to retort that Bud's getting the good drugs, but he reins it in as inappropriate. "The doctor said everything went really well. You're going to be okay. 

He rests a hand on one of his dad's--the one without the IV--and notices for the first time that his hand is larger. Constant piano-playing has given it more definition. The tendons and veins are sculpted beneath the skin. By contrast, his father's hand seems almost delicate, and the skin is crepe-y. 

Keeping his voice low and soothing, TJ talks about Mom and Doug in China waiting for news, about Metzenbaum's courtesy call, that Anne and Margaret are here, also waiting. 

From the door, the doctor signals to wrap it up. 

"I've got to go so you can get some rest, but I'll be back as soon as they'll let me."

In a low voice, his dad says, "TJ...you're a good man." 

There's a lump in his throat. "I learned from the best."

Dad squeezes his hand with a strength that belies his pallor. He's smiling again, and TJ smiles back. 

He's going to be alright. 

They both are. 

...


End file.
